Nick CaveThe Plenary, Melbourne Tuesday 16th December 2014﻿

In his 2014 docu-drama, 20,000 Days on Earth, Nick Cave tells a memorable story about the time he shared the stage with “Doctor Nina Simone”. He spoke about how when he met her backstage, she was a haggard, angry old woman, riddled by disease and nearing the end of her life. But once she walked out onstage, under the bright lights she transformed, shapeshifting into this truly iconic performer; the woman her audience knew and loved so dearly. Nick had seen Everyday Nina Simone, but here was Nina The Performer.

Several years ago, I saw Nick Cave shopping with his sons in Glenhuntly Road, Elsternwick. Despite his towering stature and slow, lanky stride, he was like any other man. I doubt many of the soccer mums or retirees walking past him on this suburban strip would have known who he was. Here was Everyday Nick; Nicholas Edward Cave from Wangaratta, husband, and father to two boys.

At that point, I had never seen Nick The Performer. That came in December 2011, when on a hot, summer’s night in the Meredith Supernatural Amphitheatre, I saw him deliver his final show with Grinderman. It blew my mind.

On a warm, Tuesday in December, I sat alongside 5,500 people at Melbourne’s The Plenary, and saw a true musical legend; a man whose career has spanned four decades, 21 studio albums with four different bands (not to mention his soundtracks, books and screenplays), deliver an utterly spellbinding performance, to a legion of fans.

Plunged into darkness, the Bad Seeds, led by crowd favourite, Warren Ellis, began with the low growl of “We Real Cool” (Push the Sky Away, 2013) before the star of the show, the dark lord of rock, loped on stage. Coaxing the audience and pacing around the stage delivering his lines like a preacher, here was Dark and Stormy Nick, a performer who was quite clearly at the top of his game.

Sitting at the piano for the next song, “The Weeping Song” (The Good Son, 1990), Cave demonstrated his softer side, a character I like to think of as Tender Nick, the Balladeer. And it was between these two personalities he shifted for the next two hours, delivering songs like “Higgs Boson Blues” (Push the Sky Away, 2013), “From Her to Eternity” (From Her to Eternity, 1984), “Water’s Edge” (Push the Sky Away, 2013) and crowd favourite, “Red Right Hand” (Let Love In, 1994) with the dark, dangerous swagger of a demon, before sitting at the piano for songs like “Love Letter” (No More Shall We Part, 2002), “Ship Song” (The Good Son, 1990) and one of his best-loved songs, “Into My Arms” (The Boatman’s Call, 1997) and delivering them with pure delicacy and tenderness.

Before then, I’d never considered myself a fan in the way Nick Cave fans usually are – loyal, obsessive and most likely sporting a tattoo of his face somewhere on their body. No, I fell into the category of fans who thought he was incredible however only knew his best known songs. But over the past few years, seeing him at Meredith, hearing the latest Bad Seeds album, Push the Sky Away (2013) and seeing his recent docu-drama 20,000 Days on Earth only compounded my admiration for him. I was hooked.

Nick Cave image courtesy of Carbie Warbie

Nick Cave image courtesy of Carbie Warbie

But the thing I found most interesting was his relationship to those around him. Despite the dark, heavy nature of many of his songs, here is a man who’s quite clearly having fun. Between his casual banter with the band (“Wazza, what do you want to play next?”), teasing the audience (telling one guy he was a “Motherfucker”, thus probably making his night) and berating the “strange venue – I feel like I should be doing a motivational speech!”, it’s quite clear that he’s comfortable, content and having fun. If this is what middle age looks like, to quote one of my favourite Cave songs, “Bring it On” (Nocturama, 2003).

But the absolute standout of the night was their performance of “Jubilee Street” (Push the Sky Away, 2013). An exercise in building tension, this song took my breath away the first time I heard it. It’s the kind of song that answers the age-old question of whether an artist can continue to make great music, 30 years after the release of their first album. Yes. Yes they can. With this prolific songwriter, poet, storyteller and visionary at their helm, Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds will continue to be relevant for a very, very long time to come.

Although he finished with an epic, half hour encore including a double-header from 2004’s Abbatoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus (“The Lyre of Orpheus” and “Breathless”), it was the closing lyrics of “Jubilee Street” that rang in my head as I walked out into the evening.